I squeeze my fists so hard my knuckles pop. I know, without a shadow of a doubt, if Riya killed someone it was because they forced her to. King Zander seems to know this, too, because he shows no shock or disapproval. “In self-defense?”
“Yes, my lord.” Her lips barely move.
He lifts his fist in our traditional salute. “You depart immediately. You’ll be briefed on the flight. You already know how to construct the dome. Further instructions and expectations will follow. A transport craft is standing by with all your materials and equipment. Please accept my gratitude for helping rebuild Zandia.”
Immediately. I suspect we’re all surprised, but I’m not sorry. The sooner we get settled with our mate on our homestead, the better. I want everything settled and sure.
My cousins and I return the salute and Riya curtsies, although I suspect Ronan’s holding her up because her knees appear wobbly.
As we walk away, my whole body fills with exultation. Yes. We asked for her, and by the stars, she is here. An uncharacteristic smile stretches my face, pinching my healing wound. I assume Ronan also wears his goofy grin, but I only have eyes for Riya.
She looks terrified and relieved, at once. Well, that’s understandable. This is something entirely new for all of us. Although our mating together was phenomenal, forging a lifelong bond is something we will all learn together.
When we reach the edge of the gathering, we stop, and I hold out a hand for Riya. She doesn’t take it, though. She bites her lip. “So what do we do now?” Her voice is low, and despite the obvious joy that flashed on her face when Zander thanks us, she seems scared.
Ronan lifts their twined hands and kisses the back of hers. “Well, I suggest that all four of us mate right here in front of everyone, just to prove we’re a team. You know how that kind of thing always brings a crowd together.”
Her lips part and brows come down, like she’s not sure if he’s serious. Ronan laughs. “I’m teasing you, Riya. Trying to make you smile.”
“You idiot,” I snap, trying not to punch him in the jaw. His joke is as stupid as it is inappropriate. Our mate is scared and requires reassurance. “Riya…”
But then she giggles, the relief on her face is evident. “Very funny.”
I turn away. “Let’s go,” I snap. Part of me is grateful Ronan, always the light-hearted one, made our mate smile in the midst of her unease. I don’t want to be jealous, because that is simply not a useful emotion. But part of me seethes as she continues to grip his hand more tightly when we enter the transport craft.
“Do you have your things prepared? Ours are ready to go, including supplies for the homestead.” Jax touches her arm, and she nods, swallowing hard.
“The few things I have,” she replies with a short nod, staring out the window, before looking back at us. “I don’t come with a large inventory… of items. Just a few articles of clothing.”
Ronan gives her that smile of his, the one that melts hearts around the galaxy. “All we care about is you,” he says, honestly. “We will make what we need on our homestead. Together.”
She twirls a lock of her dark hair around one finger, still nervous. “I suppose that’s true.”
I want to reassure her, but veck if I know what homesteading will be like. All I know is how proud I am that she’s our mate.
4
Tarren
Now that we’re all seated close to each other, I breathe in he
r scent: amazing. A sort of light, floral aroma, something that seems like it would shimmer if it were a color. And underneath that, something musky and pleasant and… aroused? I lean in a little bit to see if I’m right. Veck, she is aroused. I hold back the urge to grab her and take her right there. First we need to get to our homestead.
“Have you been told anything about the planet?” I’m curious to see what kind of information she’s been given; how useful she’ll be from the start.
She blinks, and her eyes—so wide and pretty, make me get hard. “When we were on the training pod, we had some meetings together to learn about Zandian history, biology, and agriculture. Natural resources. Nothing of what we’d do here. Or what would be expected of us.” Color tinges her cheeks.
Is she thinking about what we expect of her… sexually?
Because I sure as hell am.
I fight back a triumphant grin. This little female might be nervous, and has a traumatic past, but she still wants us. This much I can tell.
“And what are your expectations of what your role will be?”
“Well, for me.” She takes a breath. “I imagine I’ll prepare my own meals since you three don’t eat much. I’ll keep our domicile orderly and assist all three of you with tasks as appropriate re-vegetating the land. I’m going to create and tend our garden and be the caretaker for any animals. Will we have domestic beasts?”
I stare at her in surprise. “What for?”